Far Away
by MrsDrShepherd
Summary: My attempt at a post fall finale story. Mostly MiSa, but also includes other characters.
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Prison Break in any way. Which is depressing, because if I owned it….Well, let's just say there'd be more Michael and Sara interactions involving a partially dressed Wentworth Miller.

**A/N: **So this is my very first Prison Break fic. It of course takes place immediately after the fall finale. Hope you enjoy, and please, please leave a review, so that I can post the next chapter. By the way, the song to this is, "Far Away," by Nickelback, which I feel suits our fave couple perfectly.

**Chapter One**

_This time, This place  
Misused, Mistakes  
Too long, Too late  
Who was I to make you wait_

Sara had spent the last hour walking the crowded street, trying to plan her next move. Michael, the one person she knew she could trust, had been captured. She didn't know where that left her, but she knew it wasn't good. Although, at that moment, all she could think of was him. _Michael…_She thought sadly. He was going to watch his brother be executed, only to spend the rest of his life behind bars. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the brick wall of a store front, trying desperately to gather her thoughts. She knew she had a key. Possibly, and probably, the one thing Lance had been after. The one last solid piece of her father she had left. _Oh, god, dad…_She remembered his limp body hanging from the noose. Blinking back tears, Sara turned her key ring over in her hand, inspecting the strange key, before returning it to the safety of her pocket. The key was important, that much she knew. But _why_ was it important? Although she really had no clue, she suspected it somehow linked her back to Michael and Lincoln.

_I have no ties to you and your brother anymore._ Ha, right. She thought helplessly. She knew she would never _not _have ties to Michael. Something about him just got to her. He was so different from anyone she'd ever known. If things had been different...Though what did it matter anymore? Michael and Lincoln had been caught. _Dammit Michael!_ She cursed him in her mind. Though she knew she wasn't really angry with him. She was angry at herself. Angry that she had doubted Michael enough to get into her car to leave, only to realize that she couldn't bear to leave him behind. Her few regretful minutes of hesitation had cost her deeply. She ached all over. Her recently sutured arm stung, and she knew she had better clean the wound again soon. The last thing she wanted to do was risk an infection. Medical treatment was not something she wanted to deal with right now. What she needed was to disappear for a while. Lance – or whoever he was – would probably be pissed, and more determined than ever to find her. Though, disappearing sounded easier than it was in reality. She had very limited finances, no clean clothes, and absolutely nowhere to go. And yes, the one person that she needed - no - _wanted_ to help her, couldn't even help himself.

She tapped her head back against the concrete several times in frustration, ignoring the awkward looks she was getting from curious passers by. _Dammit Sara, think!_ She urged herself angrily. She ran her hands through her hair, noticing the odd feel her newly cut hair. Sighing, she pushed herself of the wall and started to head back down the street, trying to decide her next move. If only she could figure out a way to contact Michael somehow, she prayed silently.

As if someone had been listening to her prayer, as she rounded the next corner she once again caught sight of the television inside a store window. Michael's face flashed up on the screen, followed closely by Lincoln, and then flashing back to an eager reporter.

_Breaking news just in!_ The reporter exclaimed excitedly. _It seems that the fugitives behind the Fox River 8 escape, Michael Scofield and his brother, Lincoln Burrows, have just an hour ago escaped from police custody. The pair was being transferred back to Fox River penitentiary to carry out their sentences. Burrows was scheduled to be executed for the murder of President Reynold's brother, Terrence Steadman…._ The sound of the reporters voice faded as Sara took in the shocking news.

_Michael is okay!_ She thought happily as relief swept through her body. _Michael. Is. Okay. _She allowed herself a small smile before realizing in horror that she'd left any hope of contacting him behind. She began to retrace her earlier steps, hurrying through the crowd, trying desperately to find what she was looking for. At last, after about 10 minutes of running at a slight jog, she stopped, almost out of breath, next to the trash can she had tossed her phone in earlier. She glanced around, once again noticing the curious glances she was receiving from people nearby, before thrusting her hand down into the garbage. She squirmed and tried not to gag as her hand felt something slimy. _Oh god, please, please, please be here! _She begged silently.

Suddenly, she heard a ring tone sound from deep inside the pile of trash. Hurriedly, she began to sift through, desperately trying to locate the source of the sound. Finally, she felt her hand grasp the phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She pulled the phone out, not even bothering to wipe it off, before lifting it to her ear. Just as she was about to answer, the familiar ring tone stopped, and the phone went silent. She flipped the phone open frantically, checking the caller ID: Private number.

"Dammit!" She cried in a tear filled voice, yet again attracting odd stares. _It's ok_, she thought hopefully. _He'll call back. He has to_. Sara stared at the screen, willing it to ring. All of a sudden, the phone emitted a sharp beep, displaying the last words she wanted to see: Battery low. It chirped a final time before the screen went black. Resisting the urge to throw the phone, Sara stood up shakily, clutching the phone tightly. Giving a final glance down at the screen, she tucked the phone safely in her pocket, and took off down the street.


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews, for those of you that did. I really appreciate it. :) Anyhoo, here's the next chapter. Again, please read and leave a review.**

**Chapter Two**

_Just one chance  
Just one breath  
Just in case there's just one left  
'Cause you know,  
you know, you know_

Michael sighed in frustration as he flipped the man that had introduced himself as Kellerman's phone shut. It was the fourth time he'd tried to call her, and either she wasn't answering his calls, or something had happened to her. Seeing as though neither option was the least bit appealing, he once again typed the number he'd committed to his memory. This time, he didn't even hear a dial tone, only the recorded voice of the operator informing him that, "the person you are trying to call has their phone switched off." He shut the phone worriedly and slammed his elbow into the car door several times in frustration, attracting a sympathetic glance from Lincoln. The man known as Paul cast him a side long glance as he kept his main focus on the road ahead of them.

"Still no luck?" Lincoln questioned him carefully, turning around in his seat to face Michael, who was sitting in the back.

"I don't know why she isn't answering. If something's happened to her…." Michael closed his eyes, blinking back a tear. He couldn't allow himself to finish that sentence. Sara had to be okay. She just had to be. If anything had happened to her, he would never forgive himself.

"Just who are you trying to reach anyhow?" Kellerman asked cautiously from the driver's seat, although he was pretty certain who Scofield was trying so desperately to contact.

Michael stared at the man driving them. He did not for one second trust him. After he'd shot Mahone, Kellerman had led them out to an unmarked vehicle, urging them to follow him. He had told them that he had a safe place they could go where he could further explain his plan. Without a car, money, supplies, or any other options, the brothers had seen no other choice but to follow the man.

"Where are we going?" Michael asked expectantly, avoiding the question.

"A small motel, only a few more miles from here." Kellerman replied.

"And how do we know this isn't just a trap?" Lincoln questioned him.

"You don't." Kellerman laughed sarcastically. "But I'm pretty sure I could have taken you both out earlier if that's what I wanted to do. So basically, you'll just have to take my word for it." He shot Lincoln a wink, and turned back to face the road ahead.

Michael sighed in frustration. Nothing was going to plan. Things had stopped going according to plan a long time ago. He let his mind drift to Sara. _God, she's probably so scared right now. _He thought caringly. He really hadn't expected to feel this way about her. She had started as part of his plan, but after exchanging a few small sentences with her, he knew she was something different. It pained him to know how much hurt he'd caused her. _There has to be a way to make everything right. There has to be. _

Once again, Michael keyed Sara's number into his phone, praying she'd answer. Once more though, he received the pre-recorded message from the automated voice.

"Come on, Sara," he begged softly.

* * *

Sara walked slowly along the street, surveying the shops she passed by, until finally, she found what she was looking for. She heard the door bell sound as she walked into the electronic shop, signaling her presence to the teen behind the counter.

"Can I help you miss?" He asked politely.

"I need a charger for this," she said softly, motioning to the phone she held tightly in her hand.

The teen glanced at the long stitched gash on her arm, before returning his eyes to meet hers. In response, Sara nervously pulled her sleeve down to cover the wound.

"Try aisle three," he told her helpfully, offering up a small, sympathetic smile.

"Thanks," Sara replied, returning the smile and heading off in the direction he pointed.

She located the aisle and began scanning the rows of shelves until finally, her eyes landed on just what she needed. Taking the packet in her hands, she headed back to the cash register. She passed the charger, along with some of the cash she had left, over to the sales assistant. He finished the sale, handing her the charger and her change.

"Do you have a rest room?" Sara asked hopefully.

"Well…" He started, "It's really only for staff…" He caught sight of the distraught look in her eyes, and his expression softened. "Here," he said, passing her a key. "It's just through the back."

"Thank you," Sara replied gratefully as she took the key.

She stepped into the rest room, and found exactly what she had been hoping for: a power outlet. She took out the charger, and placed it in the socket, before plugging in the phone. She almost squealed with happiness as the phone lit up and began to charge. She stared silently at the screen and slid down to sit on the cold tiled floor.

"Come on, Michael," she begged softly.


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N: Hey again guys! Thanks again for the reviews! They are basically the sole reason I'm posting the story - just writing it for my own entertainment is enough for me. :) Is everyone else as excited as I am for when MiSa finally meet up again on the show:D Anyhoo, without further ado...**

**Chapter Three**

_That I love you  
I have loved you all along  
And I miss you  
Been far away for far too long_

Michael was about to hit redial as he felt the car pull to a stop. Looking out the window cautiously, he noticed a small, dingy motel off to his left.

"We're here," Kellerman announced.

Lincoln cast Michael a skeptical glance as he opened his car door and stepped out onto the pavement. Kellerman instructed them to wait by the car as he headed to the reception to retrieve the key. As soon as Kellerman was out of earshot, Lincoln turned to Michael.

"Can we trust him?" Lincoln questioned him.

"At this point, we don't have any other option." Michael sighed.

"Hey," Lincoln said suddenly, offering Michael a smile. "At least we aren't handcuffed in the back of a police car. We made it out, Michael."

At his words, Michael couldn't help but allow a small smile. The minute they were placed into the transfer vehicle, both of them has immediately thought that was it. They'd believed any hope they had left to cling to was probably false. But now, they were out. Granted, there was still a lot to figure out, but at least there was time to figure it out. He went to reply just as Kellerman returned with the motel keys.

"Follow me," he stated simply, leading them in the direction of one of the run down buildings that housed several single rooms.

Kellerman pulled open the door and ushered them in, gesturing for them to take a seat. Lincoln sunk back into a dirty arm chair while Michael remained standing, leaning his back against the thin wall and watching Kellerman carefully. Something about this man told Michael that he simply could not be trusted.

"So, your plan? Let's hear it." Michael demanded firmly.

"I _plan_ to take down President Reynolds." Kellerman stated simply.

"But why do you want our help?" Lincoln asked suspiciously.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Kellerman replied.

Michael wasn't fully buying this guys motive. But hey, for the moment, at least they could use him for supplies and information. The vibration of the phone in his pocket interrupted his thoughts. He allowed himself to be hopeful, thinking it was Sara, but when he checked the caller ID, it read: Kim.

He threw the phone at Kellerman, who caught it with ease. He flipped open the phone and greeted the person cheerfully.

"Kim!" Kellerman stated.

"Paul, you failed."

"Is that what you think?" Kellerman replied smugly.

"You completely aborted the plan."

"Well Kim, that's the thing about plans. They change." With that, he hung up the phone and threw it back to Michael.

Still glaring suspiciously at Kellerman, Michael announced he was going to try Sara again, and headed into the bedroom.

* * *

Sara sat with her back pressed up against the cold tiles of the wall, staring intently at the phone. 

"Come on, Michael," She whispered.

She'd been waiting in the rest room for a little over half an hour, which was just enough time for her phone to partially charge. She'd promised herself she wouldn't cry, but she finally allowed herself to break down. Tears spilled down her cheeks and she wiped them away with her bloody sleeve. Suddenly, she heard the door creak open.

"Are you okay in there, miss?" The teen called in nervously.

"Yeah," she sniffed, standing up. She unplugged the charger, throwing it into her bag, and headed out the door, trying to avoid the boys stare. "Thanks for your help," she finished, as she stepped back out into the street. It had grown slightly dark, and now she was left with the frightening option of not knowing where to go, of being completely alone.

Standing in front of the store, Sara looked in both directions up the street. The crowd had thinned considerably, seemingly not many people wanted to be out in this neighborhood when it got dark. _Great._ Sara thought sarcastically.

Turning left, Sara began to wander aimlessly down the street, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Seeing a small diner up to her left, she entered and found a small booth hidden near the back. After a few minutes a waitress approached her, offering her a smile and cheerful greeting.

"Hey there! What can I get for you?" The woman asked happily.

Sara smiled, "Just a coffee please, white, two sugars."

"Sure thing," the waitress replied enthusiastically, jotting down the order on her pad and returning to her place behind the counter.

Sara sighed and placed the phone on the table in front of her. She absentmindedly began to move the salt shaker in small circles around the table, drumming the fingers from her free hand lightly on the flower-patterned tablecloth.

The return of the waitress with the coffee startled Sara, and she accidentally knocked over the salt shaker, causing its contents to spill out over the table.

"Dammit! Sorry," Sara said sincerely, looking up into the sympathetic eyes of the waitress.

"No problem," the woman smiled softly, putting down the coffee and scooping the salt up into her hand.

"Here," she said placing a plate with a piece of chocolate cake down in front of Sara. "You looked like you could use it," the woman winked.

"Thanks," Sara replied, eyeing the cake hungrily.

The woman simply smiled and once again and turned to serve another customer. Just as Sara was about to bite into the cake, her phone started to sound, it lightly rang and vibrated across the table. She practically dropped the cake, quickly flipping open the phone.

"Michael?" She whispered quickly.

**A/N: So with that, I'll leave you in anticipation of the MiSa conversation about to take place. :) More reviews equals a faster update. :D**


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: Once again, thanks for the kind reviews! I'm glad you are findly this to be relatively believable. :) Here, as promised, is the MiSa phone conversation. Hope you enjoy, and if so, let me know. (haha, also let me know if you don't enjoy it)**

**Chapter Four**

_I keep dreaming you'll be with me  
and you'll never go  
Stop breathing if  
I don't see you anymore_

"Sara," Michael whispered back, his voice choking up slightly. He leaned back against the wall in the bedroom and closed his eyes in relief. _She was okay. Sara was okay_. He allowed himself a small smile before continuing.

"Sara?" He repeated, still whispering, "you're okay?"

There was silence on the other end, causing him a few seconds of panic.

"Sara?" He asked, raising his voice worriedly.

"I'm sorry…I'm here." She replied, her voice shaky. Tears were beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, and she wiped them away with her sleeve. "I'm okay now…" She stated hesitantly before continuing, "you're okay? I saw on the news you'd been caught…..Michael I was so worried," she finished, choking back her tears.

"Shhh, I'm here. I'm okay, it's okay." He answered comfortingly. "You sure you're alright?" He asked concerned.

"I'm fine, I'm in – is it safe to talk?" She asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Michael replied cautiously. "Can you get to transport to meet me?" He asked carefully.

"I think so," she replied nervously.

"Okay, down from where we last met, there's a place fit for a princess. Meet me out front of there tonight, around 10?" He asked hopefully.

"O – okay." Sara answered confusedly. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Michael, I'm not sure…"

"It's okay Sara, just meet me there." He knew she'd be able to figure out, she wouldn't have gotten as far as she had if she couldn't.

"Michael, I need you to know, before, I didn't leave you…something happened to me…"

Michael swallowed and closed his eyes. _What could have happened to her?_ He wondered sadly. Anything that happened to her was his fault. The thought of anyone hurting her filled him with a rage he didn't even know he had.

"What happened?" He pushed her to finish, concern etched in his eyes.

"It's not important right now," she spoke uncertainly, and he could hear the fear in his voice. "I'll fill you in tonight….when…when I see you," she finished, trying to hold back yet more tears.

"Sara, I…." He tried to find the courage to finish the sentence. "I need you…"

Sara closed her eyes and let his words sink in.

"I…need you too," she replied, smiling bravely.

"Tonight." He stated simply, barely holding himself together.

"Tonight." She confirmed, using all her strength to close the phone and sever contact with him.

Slowly, and unwillingly, Michael closed his phone. He sunk back further against the wall and allowed tears to spill down his cheeks. Hearing her voice wasn't enough, he needed to see her, needed to see that she was okay. He rubbed his fingers to his temples, and gathered the strength to stand up. He walked quickly to the door, opening it and stepping back out to join Lincoln and Kellerman, who were both glaring at each other.

"I have to go." Michael stated loudly, in a voice that didn't allow objections.

"We really need to lay low," Kellerman stated evenly.

"I'm leaving now, no arguments." Michael replied, gathering the keys up off the table.

Lincoln stood up to follow Michael. "Where are you going, Mike?"

"To get Sara," Michael replied, noticing with interest the way Kellerman's eyes opened a little wider at the mention of her name.

"You can't just leave," Kellerman argued, receiving a glare in response from Michael.

Without another word, Michael flung open the motel door, and took off in the direction of the car.

"Shit." Kelleramn said aloud, as he watched Michael get behind the drivers seat.

Turning the key in the ignition, Michael looked at Lincoln standing at the motel door and smiled. He was going to meet Sara.

* * *

Sara placed the closed phone gently on the table. Although her stomach protested, she took one sip of the coffee, left the cake on the table, and quickly exited the small diner. Stepping out onto the street, she glanced at the time on the phone. She had a few hours to figure out where she was supposed to meet Michael, and then to somehow get there.

Glancing ahead, she saw a small library, and her face erupted in a smile. Running at a jog, she headed to an entrance. It was closing in half an hour. Stepping inside, she surveyed the room until her eyes landed on a free computer. Sitting down, she brought up a search engine and keyed, "map, New Mexico." The screen filled with possible selections, and she hit the first one. It brought up a colorful map of New Mexico on her screen, and she hurried to locate Gila, the place where she had last seen Michael.

Straight down from Gila, was a place called Silver City. Once more she brought up a search engine and keyed in, "Silver City." A number of options appeared, and one in particular caught her eye: The Palace Hotel, located in Silver City, NM. Her face broke into a grin. _A place fit for a princess_. The Palace Hotel – that had to be it. She brought up the location, hitting print. Next, she searched for the location of the nearest bus station, again printing the directions.

She left the library smiling. She was going to find Michael.


	5. Chapter Five

**Okay, soooo, I'm really hoping for reviews on this one. Because, it's 1:37am here, and I was trying to sleep, but was struck with the random urge to write this chapter - Even though I have to be up in a few hours to go to lectures and then stand in the hot Aussie sun for two hours working on an excavation. Sooooo, please read, and review:)**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five**

_On my knees, I'll ask  
Last chance for one last dance  
'Cause with you, I'd withstand  
All of hell to hold your hand  
I'd give it all  
I'd give for us  
Give anything but I won't give up  
'Cause you know,  
you know, you know_

Sara was in no way proud of what she was about to do. Nevertheless, if she was going to meet Michael on time this was her best option. She had little money left and so there she was, walking along the quiet street, subtly examining car doors until she could find one that some trusting person had accidentally left unlocked.

After she'd left the library she'd quickly made her way to the quiet residential street, formulating her plan as she went. To her luck, very few people were around. And after almost fifteen painstaking minutes of searching, she found what she had been looking for.

Glancing around anxiously, she made sure she wasn't being watched. Sara carefully opened the driver's side door of the black sedan, kneeling down to examine the familiar wires. She reasoned to no one but herself that it wasn't as though she was stealing the car – merely borrowing it. When morning came and the car was reported stolen, the police would find it in perfect condition, somewhere in the outskirts of Silver City.

Sara furrowed her brow and closely examined the array of colored wires, trying to determine which ones to cut. She remembered the first time she'd ever done this. In her rebellious early teens, one of her low life boyfriends had shown her how to hot wire her father's car. _Ha_, she thought as she remembered the incident clearly. The governor had certainly not been impressed that day. _Not. At. All_.

After a few minutes, Sara smiled as she felt the car vibrate, and heard it roar to life. Slipping in behind the wheel, she quietly shut the door and checked her rearview mirror. Satisfied no one had witnessed her crime; she placed her seatbelt on and used the light from a nearby streetlamp to check over her map. Locating which streets to take, she pulled out onto the deserted road and grinned. _Michael, here I come._

* * *

Michael nervously tapped the steering wheel as he drove. By now the night sky was black and he admired the stars as he sped along the empty highway. In a little under an hour he'd be arriving in Silver City, and he prayed to God that Sara was there waiting for him. _Sara,_ _I need you to do something for me…wait for me..._Michael closed his eyes briefly as he remembered the moment. It was both a precious and painful memory. A sign declaring the slowly decreasing number of miles to Silver City jogged him out of memories. Out of nowhere, the small doubt that has been lingering in his mind removed itself. He knew Sara would be there waiting for him. _Of course she will_, he grinned. Sara had already proven herself to be quite remarkable; she'd managed to evade the company so far. _And let's face it_, he thought, _most ordinary people would be six feet under by now_. At that thought, he cringed. His mind flashed to images of Sara's father, his own father, David, Abruzzi, and lastly, the one person he could not allow his mind to register as gone; Veronica.

Michael blinked back several tears as he continued along the silent road, narrowly swerving to miss a small animal that had scurried across his path. He checked the clock again. _ETA: fifteen minutes_. Pushing back the depressing thoughts of several minutes ago, he allowed himself to smile as he thought of the task at hand. He was going to get Sara. He wondered what he'd say, what he'd think, what he'd _feel_, when he saw her. He imagined seeing her face would magnify what he already felt a hundred times over. Picturing her smiling face, he felt his stomach jump in anticipation; something he couldn't ever recall happening with any woman before her. He remembered the first time he laid eyes on her – _really_ laid eyes on her. That first time in the infirmary; he remembered it so vividly because he'd known she was beautiful from her picture – the one that he had pinned to his wall. But seeing her in the flesh, well, _Dr Sara Tancredi had taken his breath away_. Yes, the first time he laid eyes on her, he had known, in that moment, that his carefully thought out plans had already begun to change.

Michael glanced up nervously as he saw the "Welcome to Silver City" sign approaching over to his left. _Not long now_, he thought, trying – and failing – to suppress his eagerness to see her; _to touch her._

* * *

Sara parked the 'borrowed' car a few streets from the hotel, deciding to take the rest of the journey on foot. After all, she didn't know what Michael's plans were. Were they driving more tonight? Was there time to stop and talk? Was she meeting him at a hotel because they were staying there? The last thought sounded appealing – Sara had barely slept the last few days, and even now her eyelids silently begged her to allow them to close. At that thought she felt her stomach rumble angrily and she realized it had been a while since she'd last had a decent meal.

All thoughts of sleep and food vanished as the saw her goal looming up a head – The Palace Hotel.

* * *

Michael slowly pulled up to a stop. Carefully getting out his car and surveying the area. His eyes searched frantically for her as his mind began to worry she hadn't shown.

* * *

From her vantage point from across the street to the hotel, she saw the car slowly pull up, and a man get out. He was looking in the other direction, but she knew. It was Michael.

As he slowly turned, his eyes connected with hers, and simultaneously, they both forgot to breathe. They weren't more than 10 yards away, but at that moment, it felt like miles. Forgetting everything that had passed between them, Sara took a shaky step towards him. He stood, rooted to the ground, unable to move. Sara Tancredi still took his breath away.

Another shaky step turned into a jog, and suddenly, she was running towards him. She hit into his chest and his arms found there way protectively around her, embracing her as the tears began to flow. They stood like that, tightly wrapped around each other, for at least ten minutes. Slowly and apprehensively, Sara pulled back to look into his eyes, his hands drifted down to the small of her back, but still held her firmly.

They both searched each others eyes, and, finding what they had both been looking for, Sara leaned up towards him and felt her knees go weak as her lips connected with his. They kissed until they were both out of breath, at which point Michael suggested softly, "Do you want to go inside?"

* * *

**Thanks for reading guys! Reviews more desire to write faster update more of our fave couple.**

**:D**


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N: Okay, apparently I'm not quite used to posting here yet, as I just managed to erase an entire comment I had written out to you guys. Nevertheless, I must be insane because once again, it's 1:08am and I just got back from the movies (The Holiday - it was okay), and yet here I sit, polishing off another update. I was just so thrilled about getting comments on the last chapter, glad you's enjoyed and are finding this somewhat realistic. Not sure how true that will be after this chapter, but I'm hoping it's passable. :) (And yes, this is a shameless plea for reviews).**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

_I wanted  
I wanted you to stay  
'Cause I needed  
I need to hear you say  
That I love you  
I have loved you all along  
And I forgive you  
For being away for far too long_

Minutes later, Sara and Michael sat facing each other nervously on a bed inside the room he'd booked for them earlier. When he'd made the reservation he'd briefly considered booking two adjoining rooms, but then he remembered the last time they'd been together in a hotel room, and this time, he didn't want her to leave his sight.

"You cut your hair…" Michael stated softly, attempting to break the silence that had fallen between them. She didn't resist as he ran his fingers through her hair as he spoke. She leaned into his touch before slowly pulling away, and looking down at the floor.

"Sara," Michael began softly, placing his hand onto her forearm. At his touch he saw her wince in pain, and his expression immediately turned to worry.

"What's wrong?" He asked caringly, motioning towards her arm.

"It's nothing…" Sara responded quietly, not daring to meet his eyes.

"Sara…" he pressed.

She looked off to the side, tears beginning to form in the corner of her eyes.

Michael gently took hold of her forearm and began to roll up her sleeve – she didn't object.

"Sara – you stitched this up yourself?" He questioned her gently, although slightly shocked. Her gaze wouldn't meet his eyes, so he used his free hand to lightly touch her chin, turning her face towards his own. "What did they do to you?" He pressed further, his voice low and concerned.

Sara's stare met his, and her expression softened at the concern evident in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter anymore," she stated simply while offering him a weak smile.

"Let me look at it, okay?" He asked her gently.

In response, she let out a small laugh.

"I'm the Doctor, remember?"

"I can see that," Michael joked while examining her self sutured wound.

Sensing that she didn't want to relive what she'd been through just yet, he decided not to press the issue. Instead, he reached down next to the bed to grab the bag of supplies he'd brought with. He pulled out a small first aid kit, rummaging through until he located some betadine, peroxide, swabs and gauze.

The Doctor in her knew better than to argue that she was fine when he had antiseptic and gauze readily available. She didn't protest as he gently dabbed peroxide onto a swab and prepared to press it to her arm.

"This may sting a little," he informed her quietly.

Sara couldn't help but laugh in response; it was almost comical how their roles had been reversed.

"What's so funny?" He inquired smiling. "You're enjoying this?" He joked as he ever so gently applied the swab to her wound, gently cleaning the skin.

"Ouch," she winced in pain as the chemicals stung her skin, before jokingly continuing, "what? Peroxide on an open wound?"

He smiled at her play on words from their last meeting, and went on to joke in reply, stopping when he noticed more bruising further up her arm.

His brow furrowed and he looked at her worriedly.

"Can I…..?" He asked softly, motioning to the bruises further up her arm.

Looking into his eyes, she nodded briefly. In response, he carefully removed her sweater, leaving her sitting in just her jeans and a flimsy cotton undershirt.

Immediately, several more large purple bruises became visible. Michael sighed sadly, carefully taking in every laceration and mark.

"Looks like I've got my work cut out for me…." He joked softly, trying to hide his anger and pain at seeing her so damaged. "Is there anything else you want to tell me, Dr Tancredi?" He asked sternly, but still trying to keep the mood light.

Sara looked away, once again avoiding his eyes.

"Sara…"

Sighing, she gave him another weak smile and turned around slightly so that her back was facing him. Carefully, she lifted the back of her top to reveal the massive bruises and cuts on her back; the ones she'd obtained from falling onto the hood of the car.

Michael took in the sight, and slowly closed his eyes. He placed one hand on her shoulder, turning her back around to face him.

"Sara…I'm so sorry." He replied genuinely, his voice choking up as he tried to hold back tears. "I – "

She cut him off by placing her index finger to his lips, then leaning in to kiss him gently on the mouth. Their foreheads rested against each other and they spent a few quiet minutes just sitting in peaceful silence.

Finally, after quite sometime, Michael pulled away to continue to examine her injuries. He gently ran his fingers around one of the huge bruises, having difficulty fathoming what on earth had caused it. For the next half an hour, he tenderly cleaned and dressed her wounds.

As he placed the last bandage on her arm, he looked her into the eyes and smiled.

"There, good as new." He smiled, pleased with his efforts although still quietly seething that this had happened to her in the first place. He vowed to destroy whoever had inflicted this upon her.

"Thanks," Sara said yawning. She absentmindedly rested her hand on his thigh while returning his smile.

"You should get some rest." He told her knowingly. "I have some…." His voice trailed off as he searched through his bag, "….clean clothes for you," he finished as he managed to locate the spare change of clothes he'd thought to pick up and bring for her. "You get changed and get into bed. Doctors orders," he winked. "I'm going to go take a shower, okay?"

"Okay," she stated simply, trying to suppress another yawn.

Michael grinned at her and took off to the bathroom.

* * *

Returning from his shower, Michael stepped out in just his boxers and immediately noticed Sara fast asleep on the bed. He grinned and thought of how beautiful she looked while she slept. She'd changed into the clothes he'd picked out for her, and her torn and dirty clothes were folded in a neat pile on a chair. He quietly walked over to the bed, pulling the covers up and placing them over her shoulders. He couldn't resist leaning down and placing a kiss on her head, before turning around to take his place on the couch. As he turned to walk off, he felt her small hand grab his own. Startled, he turned back to face her. 

"Michael…" She spoke sleepily, gently tugging on his arm. He sat down on the bed, his hand still in hers.

She shifted over to the other side of the bed, making room for him to get in next to her.

"Just….lie with me, okay?" She asked; her voice soft and tired. He hesitated for a moment, she was half asleep, and he didn't want to freak her out in the morning by appearing next to her. Sensing his wariness, she smiled slightly and explained her offer, rolling her eyes in the process, "the couch is barely even long enough for you to fit on comfortably, and you look as though you need the sleep as much as I do."

"Thanks – I think," he joked. Grinning, he crawled into bed next to her, sliding under the covers. When he'd gotten into place across from her, keeping just enough distance between them so as not to make her uncomfortable, Sara surpirsed him by shifting closer to him and resting her head on his chest. He placed a protective arm around her as she nestled in closer still. Within minutes they were asleep in each others arms.

* * *

**A/N: Just a little note about this chapter. I realise Sara didn't talk much, but, if you factor in everything that's happened in the last what, two weeks? Then it seems plausable she'd be a little stuck for words. I also liked the idea that her and Michaels roles would reverse a little, as in, he'd be her Doctor for a change. Eh, makes sense in my crazy little MiSa obsessed mind. Also, as much as I would have loved to write a sex scene, I felt they weren't quite there... (Yet! lol). Lastly, I thought it was important to address her injuries. I mean, you can't be drowned, electrcuited, jump from a window onto the hood of a car and not have some brusies and cuts to show for it, right? Oh one more thing, Michael hasn't forgotten that she is the "key" to this thing (or whatever), but he's just not going to press her for the info the second he meets back up with her.**

**Shheeesh, sorry that was so long. Anyhow, please review and let me know what you think. Also, if anyone knows of any really good, realistic MiSa fics, let me know. :)**


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N: Again, it's 1:37am, and clearly, I have no life because here I am. I'm making this note short 'cause I have to be up in a few hours to leave for a shift at the hospital where I volunteer. I have to go through the wards and play games with, and entertain, sick kids, and doing that on hardly any sleep is going to be...interesting to say the least. Anyhow thanks for the awesome reviews on the last chapter, this one may be a different story... :S**

**Chapter Seven**

_So keep breathing  
'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore  
Believe it  
Hold on to me and, never let me go  
Keep breathing_

Michael awoke to the feint sent of Sara's hair, and memories of their encounter the night before came running back to him. Smiling, he closed his eyes and sank deeper into her hair, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, and trying not to wake her.

He looked down at her peaceful expression. _God, that woman is beautiful when she sleeps_, he thought in aweMichael could hardly believe where they were; Sara pressed up against his body, his arm protectively around her. It was as if that was how they always slept; as if that was how they _would_ always sleep. His smile at the thought was broken when he glanced at his watch and saw the time. _Shit!_ He realized. _We should have been on the road hours ago._ Calming down, he rationalized that a few hours couldn't make too great a difference. It was just that he hated leaving Lincoln alone with Kellerman; after all, they really couldn't trust the guy. Something was…..off about him.

He gently slid his arm up Sara's back, being careful not too put pressure on her injuries, and rested it on her shoulder.

"Sara," he whispered; his voice soft and warm.

She didn't awake, and instead just mumbled something incoherent in response, nestling closer into his chest.

"Sara…" he continued, slowly moving his hand away from her shoulder to tuck some stray hair behind her ears. His gentle movement caused her to slowly wake up, and she stared up into his eyes.

"Good morning," he smiled softly.

"Oh," she replied sleepily, staring back into his gaze. She felt the warmth of his body against hers, and suddenly realized she was pushed up right against his heavily tattooed chest. She pulled back, breaking the eye contact.

"I'm sorry," she muttered softly as she sat up, leaning against the headboard and pulling the covers to her chin.

He lay propped up on one arm, still smiling intensely at her.

"I'm not." He stated in a low voice.

Blushing, she looked away, composing herself before looking back. He was standing up now, putting his clothes on. She couldn't help staring at his half naked form, and he could see her watching him from the corner of his eyes.

"Where are we going?" She asked curiously, now becoming fully alert.

"Back to Lincoln and….." His voice drifted off as he looked around for his socks.

"And…?" Sara pressed.

"An inside guy – long story. Calls himself Kellerman. Turned up when we were caught, and claims he wants to bring down this whole conspiracy. They screwed him over, and apparently he wants to return the favour." Michael explained.

"Right." Sara replied, taking in the information. "And they are?"

"A couple hours drive from here. Not too far from the border."

Now came the part he was dreading. He hated to have to bring this up, and ruin the light hearted mood they had going. _Especially_ after they had shared a bed for the entire night. But it was better he ask her alone, rather than ambush her about it in front of Lincoln and Kellerman.

"Sara…?" He began hesitantly.

"Yes, Michael?" She asked warily, sensing his hesitation.

"Your father…" He continued softly.

Sara pulled the blankets up further and nervously looked down.

"Mmm?" She prompted him nervously, looking back up at with him with worried eyes.

"Did he…….give you something……anything?" He paused, before continuing, "A tape maybe?"

Her expression hardened, and he watched the various emotions pass over her; sadness, pain, betrayal, and finally, anger. Michael instantly regretted bringing it up this way.

"That's what this is all about?" She demanded angrily, clearly hurt. As she stood up to face him, Kellerman's words repeated themselves in her mind. _Is there somewhere in the Hippocratic Oath where it says I pledge to risk my life for those that care about mine? 'Cause they don't care about yours._ _Burrows and Michael Scofield; they just used you._

She hadn't for a moment believed his words had been true; but now…..now, she had a moment of doubt. Was Michael just using her? First for her to leave the door to the infirmary open, and now for her father's key?

"Sara…it's not like that…let me explain." Michael countered, trying to undo the damage caused by his earlier questions.

"How long have you known?" She demanded, tears forming in her eyes. Raising her voice she continued, "How long have you known I had something?"

"Sara, no I – " he stammered, trying to explain but clearly surprised by her anger.

Now she was nearly yelling, "Did you know. Did you know when I met you in Gila?" She spat, not even listening to his answers.

"No, I only just…..Sara, calm down." He said worriedly. Her anger and pain was hurting him and he hated to think he was the cause of it. He walked over to her, reaching out to gently touch her arm. She recoiled from his touch before continuing her outburst.

"Calm down?" She asked indignantly, her voice lowering to an even, angry tone. "Michael, you knew I had something, she accused him. "Something…I…..I was tortured for?" She stated heatedly, reaching down to her bag and pulling out her keys. She fumbled as she pulled the key she had retrieved from her father's office off the keychain and held it out to show him.

"I was drowned. Held underwater and _electrocuted_ for God's sake. I escaped by jumping from a second storey window. And you're telling me to calm down?" She asked furiously.

At the mention of what she'd endured the past few days Michael began to tear up. He knew what she'd gone through was far from good, but never in a million years could he have imagined it was that bad. Knowing what happened to her…he couldn't think straight. The key was the last thing on his mind. His heart was breaking for her.

"Sara. Listen," he spoke softly, his voice choking up. He placed both hands gently on her shoulders. She saw the tears glistening in his eyes and her resolve softened.

"Don't touch me," she spoke sadly, deflated. Her anger had disappeared and been replaced by sadness and hurt.

Michael didn't let go, just held her softly in place and looked into her eyes.

"Hey….hey…." he started caringly, using one hand to push her chin up to face him when she lowered her head, "I had no idea…..I found out you _might_ have something after you…left. I'm here now because I care about you…." His spoke softly and his voice trailed off, unable to continue.

Sara wanted to believe him. She really did. But a small part of her still doubted whether or not he would have come had he not suspected she had something of importance. Still, in this moment, he was all she had. And she wasn't about to let that go.

"Here. Take your key." She replied quietly, sadly, pushing the key into his hand. It pained him to see the lingering hurt in her eyes. "Let's just go." She stated as she walked towards the door, opening it and heading out into the sunlight. Michael grabbed his bag and followed her outside.

**A/N: Sara freaked out. Logically, she knew he couldn't have known, but she just...freaked out. He brought up her father (who she knows has been murdered over this whole conspiracy) and now he's bringing up the key that she didn't even know was important until she was tortured for it. So yeah, she freaked out. Michael suspected she wouldn't react well, but he'd rather ask her alone than do it with Linc and Kellerman present. All in all, I guess Michael and Sara have a tonne of issues to resolve and it can't all be smooth sailing. Nevermind though, their road trip will be coming up in the next chapter. :)**

**Let me know what you think:D**


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: So, so, sorry it's been a few days since the last update. I've gone to my aunts place out in the country, nd my cousins have a tendancy to hog the internet. I did however, get time to write this chapter, and most of the next. So provided I get reviews and people are still reading, I can have the next one up tonight (my time). I'm also on a mission to find an ethernet router so I can connect my laptop up, wish me luck:)**

**Chapter Eight**

_'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore  
Believe it  
Hold on to me and, never let me go  
Keep breathing  
'Cause I'm not leaving you anymore  
Believe it_

Half an hour later, Michael and Sara were out on the open road. Michael had one arm causally resting on the steering wheel, the other resting in the space between his and Sara's seats. They'd barely spoken two words to each other since they had gotten in the car.

It wasn't that Michael didn't want to speak to her; it's just that he had no idea what to say. He needed to fix this, needed to make it right. Somehow, knowing that things weren't okay between them tore him up inside. _I suppose this is a normal reaction to have after fighting with someone you love, _he thought to himself, keeping his eyes trained straight ahead. Tearing his eyes away from the road, he stole a secret glance at Sara.

She was staring out her window at the endless expanse of desert. Her hands were sitting softly in her lap, and he longed to reach out and grab one of them. As if she knew he was looking, she slowly turned and made eye contact with him. He couldn't make out the expression in her eyes. He supposed it was a mixture of pain, hurt, and was that……longing? He smiled at the thought, causing her to give him a curious look. Her heart got the better of her for a brief moment, and her lips threatened to return his smile. Then suddenly, as if remembering she was angry at him, she turned away, severing their eye contact, and once again facing out into the desert.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael's face fall. She instantly felt guilty. As angry as she was at him, she hated being the one to take away that smile of his. _God, that smile..…Sara, Stop!_ She scolded herself. She was so utterly confused about hers and Michael's relationship. They weren't exactly just friends, yet they weren't exactly lovers. She even had her doubts about his motive to be with her in the first place. Yet, regardless of all this, she couldn't bring herself to leave him. Not even in Gila. She had written the note, and made it to the car before realizing that she wanted, _needed_, to be with him.

It scared her more than she could bear to admit that maybe he didn't feel the same way about her. His looks told her the attraction was mutual, but she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that she was falling in love with – correction: had fallen in love with – one of the most wanted men in America.

Michael turned his expression back to the road, though he had to admit the view was hardly as pleasing as Sara's gorgeous face. Sighing, he decided to break the tense silence that had enveloped the car.

"I saw my father." He stated softly.

The word "father" coming from Michael startled Sara. She remembered from her various perusals of Michael's file and medical records that his father had been noticeably absent from his childhood. She remembered reading about it back when she had first met Michael; her fascination with him and her attraction to him had caused her to want to learn more about him. In fact, if she recalled correctly, she didn't think Michael had even seen his father. Her curiosity peaked, she turned back to face him.

"Sorry?" She replied, prompting him to elaborate.

"Lincoln and I, after I……lost you in Gila….we ran into our father. He's a big part of this conspiracy – the reason Lincoln was framed in the first place. He's the one who told us that the Government believed your father had given you something – a tape – that could bring down their whole operation."

Michael paused for a moment, seemingly composing himself before continuing. Sara mulled over his words. _So he did only find out about the key after I'd been taken? _The knowledge comforted her somewhat. She couldn't bear to think that Michael had known she might possess something that would render her an even greater target the she already had been. She hadn't really believed he had, but in the shock of his asking her about it this morning, only a day after she'd been tortured for the information…well, she figured she was entitled to a moment or two of painful doubt. She looked at him thoughtfully, silently asking him to continue.

"Sara, this thing, it's huge." He continued softly, closing his eyes briefly.

Sara nodded, she was well aware how deep and high up the conspiracy went, which was why she appreciated the fact that she was, right now, with the one person in the entire world she knew she could trust. She knew he wouldn't hold this morning against her; he understood her, more than anyone else ever had.

Her big brown eyes stared into his, and his heart immediately felt lighter. The pain that had lingered in her gaze had practically vanished, and been replaced with concern.

"The agent that caught up with is in Gila…." Michael continued, trying to keep his voice steady. She could tell from the way his voice wavered that whatever was coming wasn't good. "He found Linc and I….he…" Michael paused and looked away, unable to continue for a brief moment.

"Michael?" She prodded ever so gently. The concern in her voice gave him the strength he needed to continue. She saw him blink to hold back tears that were threatening to fall. Finally, Michael once again turned to face her. His eyes tore into hers as he continued.

"He shot my father."

Sara gasped, her hand moving to cover her mouth. She felt tears forming in her own eyes, and they began to fall at Michael's next sentence.

"He…he…didn't make it." He stammered, still not quite wanting to believe that the event had actually occurred.

_Oh god, _Sara thought sadly, her heart breaking for him. She felt the warm tears spill down her cheeks and she tasted the saltiness when they reached the corner of her mouth.

Michael was once again facing the road, trying, as always, to remain strong.

"Michael, I'm….I'm so sorry…" She spoke quietly, her voice full of truth and meaning. He simply glanced at her, offering a small brave smile, before returning his gaze to the empty road.

Slowly, Sara unfolded her hands from her lap, and reached over to place her palm on top of Michael's hand. She felt the sparks fly between them the second her skin made contact with his, and the intensity of the touch almost burnt her. She delicately ran her fingers over the top of his hand, offering what little comfort she could.

In that moment, no words were needed between them. Michael turned his hand in hers, their palms connecting. His fingers found their way between hers and he gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. He breathed a sigh of happiness and relief as he felt her return his grasp, their fingers interlocking tightly.

**A/N: So, Michael and Sara, they are good again. Which makes me happy 'cause I think they both realise that they have this mutual attraction and this semi-relationship thing going, but I don't think either knows how to define it, and with the conspiracy and all that's going on, it just doesn't seem realistic to me to have them all lovey-dovey coupley as if nothing else is happening. That said, the next chapter is a little fluffy, but hey, I'm used to writing Meredith and Derek (Grey's Anatomy) stuff, so...yeah. I promise it won't be too un-Misa though, I think it came up quite believable for them. Anyhow, enough rambling. Please review!!**


	9. Chapter Nine

**A/N: Okay, so I know some people may be getting a little bored with this, and hoping for drama. I just wanted to let you know that I've been kinda planning each chapter, well at least, planning what will happen in each chapter, and the main purpose of this story is to follow the thoughts and feelings of both Michael and Sara post fall finale. That said, although this chapter is a little on the fluff side, I think you'll find the next one quite satisfactory with respect to the action. Anyhow, please, please, please review. Even if it is criticism. Seriously. :) Enjoy!**

**Chapter Nine**

_Hold on to me and, never let me go  
Keep breathing  
Hold on to me and, never let me go  
Keep breathing  
Hold on to me and, never let me go_

A short while later, Michael and Sara had pulled into a small diner. They hadn't spoken much since Michael had told her about his father; but it was a comfortable silence. As always, verbal speech was unnecessary; they seemed to be able to speak volumes with only their eyes.

Now, they sat across from each other in a smooth booth hidden in the corner. They'd both already placed their orders and were now just waiting for their food to arrive. Earlier, Sara had nibbled on some food Michael had thought to bring, and it was all she had eaten since the Kellerman incident. Needless to say, she was starving.

Her thoughts were brought back to the fact that she could feel Michael's legs lightly resting against her own under the table. The subtle contact gave her so much unexpected comfort. Any time either one of them shifted in their seats, their legs would brush even more against each other, and they were occasionally shooting each other small smiles.

As if on cue, Michael sat slightly forward in his seat, causing his legs to slightly enclose her own. She couldn't quite believe how much she enjoyed the feel of his strong legs against her own. Her thoughts were interrupted by the waitress arriving with their food. She eyed her pancakes and bacon and eggs hungrily. And once again, neither of them spoke; they were much too involved in their meals, though the contact between their legs still remained.

"Oh god," Sara moaned in pleasure.

Michael raised his eyebrows at her, and she blushed.

"Sorry, it's just that…it may just be my extreme starvation talking, but these are seriously the best pancakes I've ever eaten." She replied, smiling brightly despite the circumstances of the morning, of their situation in general.

He grinned at her in return, and replied, "They have lumps of flour in them."

"Whatever." She laughed. She seriously couldn't believe the light heartedness of the atmosphere, considering the events that had transpired that morning. Nevertheless, she wasn't complaining. It was nice, and necessary, to have a few moments of silliness to break up the pain and drama that had become their life.

After several minutes, Sara had eaten far more than her stomach could handle, and it protested accordingly. She leaned back into her seat, her hand resting on her stomach.

"You okay?" Michael asked, clearly enjoying her predicament.

"I'm a Doctor, you'd think I'd know to pace myself," Sara groaned.

"And you'd think you'd be neater…" Michael joked.

"Huh?" She asked, slightly confused.

He motioned to the corner of his mouth, "You've got a little something.."

She nervously licked her lips, attempting to remove the smudge.

"Here," he murmured softly, leaning forward over the table, his finger making contact with the corner of her mouth, gently wiping off a small amount of syrup that she'd missed.

Their eyes connected, and neither could bear to look away. Michael remained leaning forward in his seat, their legs involuntarily interlocked, and his hand lingering on her chin. They were both too caught up into each others stare to even realize the position they were in. All thoughts of her stomach had drifted out of Sara's mind; her only thoughts were on the man whose lips were just now only mere inches away from her own.

Michael began to inch closer, just as the waitress returned with their bill, swiftly destroying the moment. Michael smiled at her and leant back into his seat, offering the waitress a small thank you, even though he was silently cursing her for the interruption.

He had no idea what had almost happened. It seemed that even in the midst of all the chaos and the conspiracy, Sara simply made it all melt away. When he was that close to her, he could think of nothing but how he wanted to kiss her, to touch her, and he was almost certain she was thinking the same thing.

_Shit. _Sara wondered to herself. _What the hell was that? _She was barely able to stand as Michael paid the bill, still weak from their close encounter.

They walked together out of the diner and towards the car. Their arms gently brushed against each other with every step, and Sara felt the electricity sweep through her with every touch.

She laughed nervously as she got into the car, Michael taking his place in the driver's seat next to her.

"So how far away are we now?" She inquired, trying to keep her thoughts on something….appropriate.

"No more than an hour," Michael replied, his arm subtly touching hers.

True to his word, in just under an hour they were pulling up outside the hotel where here had left Lincoln and Paul earlier the previous night. Michael made his way around to Sara's door, opening it for her; had it been another time, under other circumstances, she might have giggled at his act of chivalry.

She followed him up to the door, and he again subtly placed his hand on the small of her back as he knocked on the door. It was the subtle glances and touches that passed between them that drove her crazy. The brief moments of contact that she secretly wished would last so much longer.

The door opened and they were greeted by Lincoln. Relief washed over his face as he saw Michael and Sara – both in tact, standing at the doorway. He nodded hello to Michael, and offered a polite greeting to Sara.

"Sara," he welcomed her warmly, and also a little awkwardly.

She smiled and offered a small smile and a, "hi Lincoln," in reply.

All the while, Michael was watching Sara intently, and his brow furrowed when he saw her look past Lincoln's shoulder. He noticed her expression change from one of nervousness to one of shock, terror, and fear. Immediately, he became worried as he watched the blood rush from her face, turning her complexion ghostly pale.

He felt her hands grab his arm, and her nails dug into his skin, drawing blood. Confused, Lincoln stepped out of the doorway, giving Michael a clear visual of the object of Sara's distress; the man who called himself Agent Paul Kellerman.

As Kellerman became even more visible to Sara, her nails only dug further into Michael's arm, though the pain was the last thing on his mind and he barely winced. He was slowly piecing together the strange interaction that was taking place.

Kellerman didn't falter; he took several steps towards the doorway, before offering Sara a welcome greeting.

"Sara! Didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon!" He spoke cockily, knowing it was a suicidal move, but figuring that the truth was going to come out anyway.

**A/N: Okay, so as you see, fluff followed by drama. And let me tell you, Michael is not going to go easy on Kellerman. And for that matter, neither is Sara; the man is in for some much deserved paaaaaaaaain.**

**More reviews will mean the next chapter will be up faster!**

**Until then, audios!**


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer: I do not own Prison Break in any way. If I did I can assure you there would be no hiatus and we all wouldn't be suffering major withdrawals right about now...**

**A/N: Soooo sorry about the long wait between chapters, hope you all haven't forgotten. It's midnight now but I wanted to get this up so I could wake up to your opinions (hint, hint). It was christmas today, and christmas is exhausting. :S Anyhoo, MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! Without further ado...**

**Chapter Ten**

_All this feels strange and untrue  
And I won't waste a minute without you  
My bones ache, my skin feels cold  
And I'm getting so tired and so old _

The anger swells in my guts  
And I won't feel these slices and cuts  
I want so much to open your eyes  
Cos I need you to look into mine

Open You Eyes – Snow Patrol

* * *

Michael observed the fear that had multiplied in Sara's eyes at the sound of Kellerman's voice. Realization dawned on him as he felt her nails dig deeper still into his arm, causing blood to run out over his heavily tattooed forearm. 

As he felt her clinging to him, he looked from Paul to Sara, then back to Paul. His eyes connected with hers and the look in Sara's stare was one of sheer terror. Michael's memory flashed back to her injuries he'd seen the night before, the bruises, the cuts, and the look of sadness on her face; all hints that she had been in pain and afraid for her life. He felt something inside him snap.

All of a sudden, he finally realized how it was possible for his father to murder another human being, because, right now, in this moment; Michael wanted to kill Paul Kellerman. But not only did he want to kill him; he wanted him to feel the pain and terror that she felt. He wanted to hurt him, to damage him, as much as he'd damaged her.

The look of cockiness on Paul's face enraged Michael. The arrogant son of a bitch was smug and clearly enjoying Sara's fear; the woman he had only days ago tortured and nearly murdered.

Kellerman saw something change in Michael's eyes, and surprisingly, it managed to scare the shit out of him. Sure, he hadn't exactly expected a welcome wagon, but the look in Michael's eyes was fierce; it was the epitome of rage. Kellerman's cocky grin faltered and he attempted to take a small step backwards.

Lincoln was watching the whole exchange warily. It didn't take a genius to understand the looks passing between Michael and Kellerman, not to mention the fact that Sara appeared to be frozen in shock. The tension in the room was palpable.

Sara was in fact, rooted to the ground in shock. Minutes earlier she'd been marginally happy for the first time in weeks, with the prospect of the boys finding someone that may be able to help exonerate Lincoln, and thus bring down the conspiracy, and now…now she was petrified, and justifiably so. It had been foolish for her to let herself become lost in Michael's presence, and push the reality of their situation to the back of her mind, that much she knew. But still, the last person she expected to see when she felt so safe with Michael, was Lance.

After what seemed like an eternity, but in reality only took place in about 30 seconds, Michael lunged at Paul. His first punch connected with Paul's jaw, sending him flying back against the wall, his back making a large thud on impact. Even though Michael was pretty sure he'd heard one of Paul's ribs crack, Paul managed to stay upright, wavering slightly but keeping his ground.

However, Kellerman only had a few seconds to catch his breath as Michael was on him again. His fist connected with Paul's jaw several more times, sending blood rushing from the battered man's nose and splattering onto the already dirty carpet.

By now, Lincoln was yelling at Michael, trying – and failing – to pull him off of the former agent. Though in reality he knew Michael must have a damn good reason to have flown into such a rage, he still knew they needed Paul if they ever wanted to stand a chance at exposing the conspiracy and bringing those involved down.

Sara was still standing frozen in the doorway, a look of panic painted on her face. She watched in terror as Michael threw punch after punch at Paul, all connecting solidly on the man's bloody face.

"MICHAEL!" Lincoln bellowed, frantically trying to pull Michael off of the bloody man before them. "You're going to kill him!"

At Lincoln's words Michael spun around to face him.

"GOOD!" Michael screamed back at him, turning his face to Lincoln as he pushed Kellerman back against the wall. Paul's back connected with the bricks and he slid down to the ground so that he was propped up against the wall.

"This son of a bitch," Michael continued furiously, "_tortured_ Sara." Michael stood in front of Paul, but with his head turned to face Lincoln.

"He _drowned _her." Michael stated as he kicked Paul in the ribs.

"He _electrocuted_ her." He continued as his boot connected with Paul's stomach, causing him to groan in pain.

"He _almost_ killed her." Michael finished as he turned his attention back to Kellerman, sending another kick spiraling into him.

"Michael, we need him," Lincoln tried to reason, his pleas falling on deaf ears as Michael continued to abuse Paul, who was now cowering on the floor in agony.

Coughing back blood, Paul turned on the floor to face Michael and Lincoln, his face contorting into a twisted smile. Unable to fight back physically, he decided to hit Michael where he knew it would hurt.

"Oh, you should have seen her scream as I held her head underwater," he sputtered, wiping some blood from his swollen chin.

"She cried for you, for her life. It was pitiful." He laughed.

His words only enraged Michael further, and he sent another assault of kicks into the man's stomach.

Paul was on his back on the floor as Michael's boot connected with his side, causing several more ribs to crack.

Lincoln continued to try to stand between Michael and Paul, as Michael circled Paul, throwing a kick or two into him along his way.

Finally, Michael felt someone grab his arm, and he turned around angrily, panting heavily, the physical exhaustion setting in. His rage dissipated as he realized it was Sara. Amongst the midst of the attack he'd completely forgotten she was there. His main concern had been inflicting as much pain as humanly possible on Paul.

She stared at him evenly, the fear having drained from her face to be replaced by determination.

"We may need him, Michael." She told him calmly, her hand still gently holding onto his arm. Her touch calmed him down. She was okay. No matter what Paul had done to her, she was okay.

Sara's interruption surprised him. Michael knew she was right, and even though _every_ cell in his body was telling him to finish Paul off, he backed away. Sara however, remained.

She took a few steps towards Paul and placed a foot on his chest.

"Hi Lance." She smiled sweetly, applying pressure to the fresh iron burn on his chest.

Kellerman winced in pain as she pushed her foot down further on the fresh sore. Finally, Sara turned her foot on his chest, grinding the burn with her shoe. She felt the newly healed skin tearing and sending waves of pain through his body. The last thing Kellerman saw were Sara's unwavering eyes as his world went black and he slipped into unconsciousness.

**A/N: So, as you can see, I really want Paul to suffer some pain. lol. After the whole, "It's okay...you're okay" after he drowns Sara, and is then all nice and drying her hair before he dunks her back in... (shudder). Eeep, creepy. Anyhoo, I think Michael's anger is understandable to a degree. Eh, let me know what you think. :D**


	11. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: Well, midnight, and once again here I am. I'm not sure how much longer this story will be...I never really intended to have a huge plot to go on, I'll leave that up to the amazing powers that be. Nothing I could think of could compare to their genius anyway. So yeah, basically this fic was just to address what I thought/hoped could happen between MiSa post fall finale. I think there are probably a few chapters left, and you never know, I could think of something great. lol. Provided everyone is still reading, the next chapter should be up within the next 24 hours.**

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**Chapter Eleven**

_Get up, get out, get away from these liars  
Cos they don't get your soul or your fire  
Take my hand, knot your fingers through mine  
And we'll walk from this dark room for the last time_

None of them knew quite what to do. Fifteen minutes had passed and Kellerman was unconscious, propped up against the cold brick wall of the cheap hotel. One of his hands hung limp as it was held by a thick piece of rope to the metal frame of a bookshelf. Although he was barely a threat anymore, they'd tied him up for good measure. No one however, had bothered to wipe the dried blood from his chin, and that plus the pained expression on his face was grotesque.

Sara and Michael sat at either end of the double couch while Lincoln sat on a couch opposite them. They'd barely spoken since Kellerman had fallen unconscious; no one knew quite was to say. This was all pretty much unknown territory to the three of them.

Michael desperately wanted to offer Sara some comfort, but it was so difficult to know how she'd react to him, to anyone, at this point. He wasn't usually the type to shy away from a challenge, but Sara…Sara was…different. She brought things out in him he never knew existed. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, but one thing was for sure; he didn't regret anything about her, about their relationship. Actually, he really didn't know how to define their relationship, and he suspected she didn't either, which was what was making the silence right now slightly awkward. Lincoln…Lincoln just looked confused.

Michael stole a glance at Sara. Her hands were fidgeting in her lap and he longed to put his own over hers to still them. He thought he caught her looking at him, and he felt his lip curl up into a smile. Lincoln raised his eyebrows at him causing Michael to roll his eyes in response.

Sara sighed, looking up. Her gaze went from Lincoln to Michael. He was on the couch next to her, but there was a distance between them. He seemed to be staring at an imaginary spot on the floor. It was odd; she wasn't used to this Michael. One who seemed so unsure of what to do, a man without a plan.

She didn't know how to interpret his outburst at the man she now knew as Kellerman. He'd been savage. It was with raw passion and rage that he'd repeatedly struck Kellerman. She wasn't naïve; she realized that the attack was in response to Michael's realization that Paul was the one who had tortured her. Thinking about Michael's protectiveness of her made her strangely gleeful. But still, she just sat with her hands in her lap, waiting for either Michael or Lincoln to talk first.

Finally, the silence was broken by Michael's feet scraping along the stained carpet as he stood up. Both Sara and Lincoln watched as he made his way over to the small kitchen where he proceeded to grab a mug and begin fixing a coffee. After a few moments, he stirred the drink with satisfaction as he walked back over to the couch.

Lincoln watched curiously as Michael passed the warm beverage to Sara, receiving a small smile in return. _God, that smile…_Michael thought, feeling a little like a love sick teenager. Truth was, he was so angry at himself for everything bad that had come of his ingenious escape plan. Letting out the other cons – T Bag mainly, and all the pain and deaths that had occurred; he couldn't help think that that blood was on his hands.

However, the guilt from all of these events paled in comparison to the guilt he felt from involving Sara in the whole conspiracy. He had, effectively, torn her life apart. Her father had died, she'd lost her job, she'd been tortured, and now everyday she had to fear for her life. Realistically, the logical part of him knew that it was hardly all his fault, and that even he couldn't have predicted the extent The Company would go to, or the power they had. But being around Sara…well, he could hardly think logically. And despite all this, he still couldn't being himself to regret what had developed between them.

He sat back down, and it didn't escape her notice that he sat down closer to her this time. His knee lightly rested against hers, and that one small contact offered her more comfort than any other man ever had. He watched her from his end of the couch as she gently blew on the hot drink, attempting to cool it so that she could take a sip. She raised the mug to her lips and he watched as she momentarily closed her eyes as the warm liquid hit her tongue.

"No, I didn't want a drink. Thanks for the offer Michael." Lincoln joked, attempting to break the silence that had once again enveloped the trio. Michael just smiled at his older brother before turning his attention back to Sara.

Suddenly all too aware that she was being watched, Sara bought the mug down to rest in her lap and she coughed nervously.

"So…What now?" She asked quietly, sounding slightly anxious a she gestured towards the unconscious, restrained man.

Michael followed her gaze to Kellerman before replying, a small smile playing across his lips, "let him sleep."

"I meant about everyth – " Sara tried to explain, Michael cutting her off.

"I know." He replied softly, staring into her eyes and for the moment, they both forgot Lincoln was in the room.

Michael's gaze gave her goosebumps and she couldn't bear to look away. Lost for words, she stared longingly back into his eyes. She could see his hunger and concern for her in his eyes, and she was almost certain her own eyes reflected that same desire.

Oblivious to the tension building, Lincoln piped up from his seat on the opposite couch.

"I guess we wait until he wakes up," he said as he pointed over at Paul, "and see what his plan was. Not that he's going to feel particularly helpful now." Lincoln finished slightly sarcastically, slightly impressed by Michael's attack.

"He'll still help, if that was his original intention." Michael stated knowingly.

"How can you be sure?" Lincoln asked curiously.

"If he came to us in the first place, he obviously needs us. That won't change."

Lincoln thought about Michael's words. He figured Michael was probably right. Kellerman had come to them, so he obviously needed something from them, and a little – correction: a lot – of pain didn't mean he didn't need them anymore.

"Right. And don't forget about the key." Sara said, her eyes shifting to meet Lincoln's.

"Key?" He asked, confused.

Sara looked back over at Michael, who was already rummaging in his pocket. Triumphantly, he pulled out the key and tossed it to Lincoln. Catching it easily with one hand, Lincoln carefully examined the strange key, turning it over in his hand.

"What's it for?" Lincoln asked inquisitively.

"No idea," Michael said honestly, looking over at Sara.

"I'm not sure," she replied, reluctantly turning her attention back to Lincoln. "I found it on the floor of my father's office. I'm pretty sure it was what _he _was after" she finished a little nervously, glancing over at Kellerman as if making sure he was still restrained.

Michael noticed her slight uneasiness and rested his hand lightly on her knee in response. The touch of his hand calmed her and she gave him a small smile, feeling a little foolish knowing that Lincoln was probably watching the interaction curiously.

Hours passed as the three discussed their options. Sara had briefly and somewhat reluctantly assessed Kellerman's condition, and they'd laid him on the floor, determining that despite the injuries he'd sustained, he would physically be okay and would probably just sleep through until the morning. No one moved to get him a pillow or make him comfortable.

As it began to get dark, they'd made some pasta and had dinner together in the small, dingy hotel. Finally, they'd decided to keep the key secret from Paul until they'd determined exactly what he was up to, which they would quiz him on in the morning.

"Right…well." Lincoln said a little awkwardly. "I'm going to go make a phone call."

Michael looked at him curiously.

"LJ." Lincoln answered his brother's silent question.

Michael simply nodded.

"Watch your back."

"Always do."

With that, Lincoln was out the front door. He did really want to speak with his son, but he also partly left because he wanted to give Sara and Michael some privacy to talk. The looks that had passed between the two all afternoon hadn't gone unnoticed by Lincoln. Michael knew that was part of his motivation and he was grateful to his older brother. And as the door closed, Michael returned his gaze to Sara, realizing that apart from the unconscious man lying in the corner of the room, they were completely alone.

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**A/N: Okay, I realise this chapter was kind of unevenful. But the next chapter won't be. In fact, a bunch of you will probably think the events in the next chapter happened too quickly; that Michael and Sara aren't there yet...and I'm probably inclined to agree with you. However, my brain couldn't seem to stop my fingers from typing it so...Eh, I'll just wait to hear back from you about it I 'spose. So, read and review and I'll finish off the next chapter. :D **


	12. Chapter Twelve

**A/N: Once again, I'm really sorry about the delay on this chapter. Unfortunately, real life got in the way. Now, this probably won't happen on the show but quite frankly; I don't really care, a girl can dream. I had so much fun writing this chapter and was grinning like an idiot the entire time, so I really hope you enjoy. And if so, please review. Btw, there are still one or two more chapters left in this story before I either end it or go on hiatus. :)**

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**Chapter Twelve**

_Every minute from this minute now  
We can do what we like anywhere  
I want so much to open your eyes  
Cos I need you to look into mine_

Michael and Sara were seated across from each other at the small unsteady table. His hands rested on the cracked tabletop; hers were folded in her lap. Catching sight of his hands on the table, the Doctor in her finally noticed the wounds on his knuckles, which he'd obviously acquired during his assault on Kellerman.

"You really are a masochist, huh?" She joked, smiling lightly as she moved out of her chair and slid into the one next to him. She gingerly took his hands in hers, holding them tenderly while she turned them over to examine the extent of the damage to his knuckles.

His face broke into a smile as some of her loose hair fell against his shoulder; she was too busy examining his wounds to notice. Her closeness also meant that he could feel her warm breath and hear her rhythmic breathing.

"You should see the other guy." He spoke huskily into her ear.

She cast a weary glance over at Paul, before smiling back at Michael, realizing how close she was to him and blushing slightly.

"Seriously, one of these days you're going to get yourself killed." Although her tone was light, he could see the seriousness and concern in her eyes.

"You're worried about me?" He accused her, smiling knowingly.

She just grinned at him, rolling her eyes. He was too busy looking at her to realize she was about to rub antiseptic on his skin, and it stung as it made contact with his fresh injuries. The muscles in his fingers slightly contracted in response to the unexpected pain, causing her to laugh, playfully mocking him before her expression turned serious.

"How does it always come back to this?" She asked seriously, briefly looking up from his wounds to stare deeply into his eyes.

"It just never occurred to me to change physicians." He replied amusedly, returning her gaze.

Trying to ignore his jokes, she just softly shook her head and continued.

"You nearly killed him." She gestured towards Kellerman before looking back at his hands as she attempted to bandage them. As she worked she continued the conversation, hoping to get a serious answer from him. "Why?"

Michael paused for a second, breaking eye contact to look down at the table, clearly deep in thought. Finally, he looked up, and she could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"He nearly killed you." Michael spoke softly, confidently. He paused for a few seconds while he stared into her eyes. He couldn't help but grin before continuing jokingly, "And then I really would've had to find another Doctor."

She continued to stare down at his knuckles, gently dabbing at them with cotton balls. A smile played across her lips; she was clearly amused, but still wasn't fully satisfied with his response.

"So?" She prodded.

He took her hands in his, stopping her from tending to his wounds. His sudden movement caused her to look up, her eyes connecting with his. She once again registered their closeness; their faces mere inches apart. The small glass bottle of antiseptic dropped from her hands and neither of them paid any attention to it as it rolled off the table and landed with a thud on the hard ground.

_Here goes nothing,_ Michael thought. He took a deep breath, and briefly closed his eyes preparing for the next words to come out of his mouth.

"He nearly killed someone that I love," he spoke quietly, his voice completely serious, his eyes never wavered from her own.

Sara was momentarily stunned by his declaration. She was completely speechless; which was probably a good thing because even if she could speak, she still would have been unable to think of a coherent response.

He gently brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and neither one of them broke eye contact. He paused for an instant, then moved his hands to her waist and slowly pulled her over onto his lap; she didn't resist and slid easily into his embrace. They continued to stare deeply into one another's eyes and neither knew exactly how long they were in that position; Sara sitting gently in his lap, her hands around his shoulders, his arms wrapped around her waist. At this small distance she could feel his steady breaths, and practically hear his heartbeat speeding up. Her own was beating rapidly in anticipation.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sara leant her face down, her lips gently brushing over his. She felt his sharp intake of breath as her lips briefly made contact with his. He responded by taking his mouth to her neck, slowing leaving a trail of kisses up to and including her earlobe.

Her hands found their way under the back of his shirt as he gently, wordlessly, lifted her up, holding her in his strong arms. He pulled back from her neck to look once more into her eyes, and they showed no sign of resistance. Upon receiving this silent confirmation from her, he proceeded to carry her into the small bedroom, closing and locking the door as they disappeared inside.

As he laid her down on the bed, it amazed both of them that it didn't feel awkward. Even given the situation they were in; both were practically on the run, fearing for their lives, and there was even a man unconsciousness in the next room. Despite all this, everything felt completely natural. They were finally giving into what they knew they had both longed for since that very first time in the infirmary. It almost felt surreal.

He moved on top of her and his lips once again connected with hers, though this time his tongue found its way into her mouth and his hands ran through her hair. While returning his kiss, she slowly pushed him over so that she was straddling him. He carefully removed her top, always being mindful of the injuries that were now all too visible. His breath caught in his throat; even with all the cuts and bruises, she was beautiful.

She self-consciously glimpsed down at her battered body before returning her eyes to his. Upon seeing the expression of awe in his eyes and the gentle smile he offered her, she realized none of it mattered anymore. Right now, there was nowhere else either of them wanted to be.

She carefully removed his shirt, her fingers tracing delicately over the intricate designs tattooed on his chest. She studied them curiously, momentarily in awe of the elaborate blueprints which she knew were the key to his escape.

Only mere moments later, they were both completely unclothed, and had shifted position so that he was now hovering less than an inch above her. She breathed quickly and shivered involuntarily as she felt his warm breath on her neck, still not quite believing any of this was taking place. Over the next few hours they made love, completely giving themselves to each other. It wasn't rushed or hurried or awkward, and they took all the time they needed because, right now, as far as they were concerned; they had all the time in the world.

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**A/N: So yeah, probability of this really happening is low. But I figured, hey, this is a fanfic, and I can make it happen:D Nevertheless, I thought even though it was something that probably wouldn't happened, they remained relatively in character. Besides, Sara held out much longer than I would have. :D**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: Don't have much to say about this one. Kind of speaks for itself. I love the song Collide, which I've used here. :D Anyhow, read and enjoy!**

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**Chapter Thirteen**

_The dawn is breaking_

_A light shining through_

_You're barely waking_

_And I'm tangled up in you_

_But I'm open you're closed_

_Where I follow you'll go_

_I worry I won't see your face _

_Light up again_

- Collide, Howie Day

Sara awoke naked and in Michael's arms. It took a few moments for the reality of the situation to register with her. She lay with her forehead pressed against his bare chest; his arms were wrapped protectively around her. She reluctantly shifted in her position so that she could look up at his face. Michael didn't stir and she was surprised when she looked up to find that he was already awake, looking down at her as though he had been quietly watching her sleep.

He smiled at her and she couldn't help but blush. Although it felt completely right, she wasn't really accustomed with this kind of wake up; though she sure as hell could get used to it.

"Good morning," he murmured into her hair, sighing sleepily as he inhaled the feint scent.

"Morning," she mumbled softly, yawning as she attempted to bury herself deeper into his chest, closing her eyes as if it would make her forget about their situation. She felt his arms tighten around her and his face sink down into her hair. If she tried hard enough, she could almost pretend they weren't running for their lives. She could almost pretend the man who had tortured and tried to kill her wasn't unconscious in the next room. She could almost pretend that she and Michael were a normal couple waking up to their 2.5 children and their house with a white picket fence. _Almost_, but not quite.

"Lincoln…" she spoke quietly, yawning again.

"Just what I want to hear; my brother's name." Michael joked softly, whispering into her hair.

Sara pulled back slightly, her brow furrowed.

"I meant; he's in the other room. We should….get up." She continued tiredly and a little awkwardly, trying to mean the words but not really convincing him.

"We should…" He agreed, not moving. She was amazed at how at ease Michael seemed. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, running through every reason she should or shouldn't be in her current position. He just seemed…relaxed, happy. His calmness seemed to relax her and she felt herself drifting off to sleep.

After a few moments they'd nearly fallen back asleep. Michael broke the peaceful silence by uttering her name.

"Sara…" he murmured.

"Mmmm?" She replied serenely, once again trying to stifle a yawn.

In response, he slowly leaned in and kissed her passionately on the lips. She was caught a little off guard but gradually leaned into the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, both a little breathless, she looked at him and smiled sleepily.

"What was that for?" She asked, barely managing to suppress her grin.

"Just because I could." He whispered, grinning while he tucked some stray hair behind her ear.

They lay like that for a few more minutes before Sara decided they really should get up. She hated the thought that Kellerman was awake, maybe unwatched in the next room. Reluctantly, she moved to sit up on the bed, her back leaning against the wall. She pulled the sheets with her and kept them wrapped around her.

Michael flashed her a smile before he moved off the bed to throw on a pair of boxers that lay deserted on the floor. As she watched him dress she slowly glanced around the room. She noticed that the paint on the walls was peeling, and cobwebs were forming in the corners of the room. The walls and floor were dirty, as if the hotel staff rarely cleaned thoroughly. The room was cheap and she reasoned that she should probably feel cheap right about now. But she couldn't; in fact, she couldn't care less about the state of the room. Right now, she honestly couldn't feel anything else but happy.

While Sara showered in the small bathroom that adjoined hers and Michael's room, Michael slipped out into the kitchen to find Lincoln. He figured joining her in the shower might be pushing his luck. The first thing he noticed as he walked into the open room was Kellerman finally awake, sitting against the wall, his arm still tied to the bookshelf.

He heard the door to his left open as Lincoln stepped out of the other small bedroom, yawning widely.

"Hey," Lincoln spoke slyly. "Have a good…sleep?"

Michael smiled and shook his head softly, knowing exactly what his older brother was alluding to.

"The best."

"I'm happy for you." Lincoln replied genuinely, tapping his younger brother firmly on the shoulder.

"Me too." Michael replied quietly, meaningfully.

"Oh isn't this touching," Kellerman muttered sarcastically from his cold, dank, corner of the room. "Anyone care to untie me?"

Both Michael and Lincoln ignored Kellerman as they walked into the kitchen area, making coffee and toast. They moved around in the tiny kitchen, and it didn't escape Lincoln's notice that Michael was also fixing an extra breakfast, obviously for Sara.

They walked over to the small table and Lincoln tossed a bare piece of toast at Kellerman, who glared as it landed next to him, before rolling his eyes and picking it up to eat.

As they sat down at the table, they saw Sara emerge fully clothed from the bedroom. Her hair was soaking wet and the floral scent that wafted into the room told them that she'd washed her hair. She'd been as surprised as any of them when she saw that the dingy motel had supplied toiletries in the bathroom. Still, she was grateful. After the few days she'd had, washing her hair had felt like heaven. Actually a lot of recent events had felt like heaven. She suppressed the urge to smile and shook her head slightly.

She made her way over to the table and took the place set out for her next to Michael.

"Hey Lincoln," she said blushing slightly but noticeably, a little embarrassed knowing that he knew she and Michael had shared a room the night before.

"Hey," he said warmly as Michael slid a coffee across the table to her.

She took a sip of the hot liquid, enjoying the feel as it slid down her throat.

She felt Michael squeeze her hand under the table as he spoke to her.

"Sara, we need to…" he let his gaze finish his sentence, and she watched as his eyes moved to the man sitting in the corner of the room.

She swallowed her mouthful of coffee and nodded hesitantly, gaining another reassuring squeeze from Michael.

Getting her permission, Michael stood up, his chair scraping along the ground. He made his way over to Kellerman and began to untie his restraints.

"You touch her, look at her, _think_ about her. You die." Michael threatened, whispering so that only Kellerman could hear.

"Sure thing, boss." Kellerman replied sarcastically, earning him rope burn as Michael harshly finished untying the cord.

Kellerman rubbed his wrist as he got up painfully and walked slowly over to the table to join Lincoln, Sara, and Michael who had also just taken his seat again.

The three of them glared at Kellerman as he carefully sat down, clearly feeling the extent of the injuries he'd received the previous day.

"Tough crowd." He muttered sarcastically.

"Why are you really here?" Lincoln demanded, not one to beat around the bush.

"Like I told you; the President, The Company, screwed me over. I fully intend to repay them for it." He replied impatiently.

"And you can help us how?" Michael asked, his dislike for the man showing clearly.

"I know everything President Reynold's has ever done. You three just so happen to be living proof of her actions. Together, we can expose them." Paul spoke convincingly.

"And you really expect me – us – to believe you?" Sara asked incredulously.

"Hey." He looked at her, already disobeying Michael's earlier instruction. "You were just a target. I was a soldier following an order. It was nothing personal." He paused for a second. "I could really go for a piece of pie right about now." He grinned.

Sara's eyes narrowed and Michael once again took her hand under the table, causing her to breathe out and relax a little.

Paul decided to keep talking.

"I was told your father had given you something; something that contained information that the President could not afford to get out." He prompted her.

Sara looked from Kellerman, to Lincoln, her gaze then resting on Michael.

"We don't know that you can be trusted." Michael spoke evenly at Kellerman.

"You don't really have a choice." Kellerman laughed, clearly enjoying the control he seemed to have over them. Knowledge was power. He obviously had information they desperately needed.

The three exchanged glances. Lincoln nodded, and Michael looked at Sara. She also gave a slight nod. Reluctantly, Michael dug his hand into his pocket, removing the mysterious key. He placed it onto the table in clear view of Kellerman.

Kellerman's eyes went wide.

"Oh, shit." He muttered.

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**A/N: Okay, so I'm not exactly sure where I go from here. I'm kind of swamped with classes at the moment so I probably won't get time to update. I really hoped you enjoyed reading what I've written so far. I hope to get back to this, or maybe start a new story eventually. Pleaaaaaase leave a review, especially if you haven't already. Oh, and thank you so much to those that reviewed! Especially the few that reviewed every (or almost every) chapter. You guys are the reason people write, and if you write yourself, you know the feeling. :D**

**Thanks!!!**


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